A New Approach
by aviddaydreamer
Summary: Draco Malfoy is determined to get under Hermione's skin this year, but she's found a new approach to an old problem that just might change things between them.


Disclaimer: They're mine, I tell you—Hermione, Draco, all of them-- all mine! Muahahaha…wait, what? They're not? Well…damn.

A New Approach

Hermione gritted her teeth in frustration before shaking yet another wad of parchment out of her honey brown hair. Turning to look behind her, she locked eyes with a sneering Draco Malfoy surrounded by snickering Slytherins.

"Bloody hell, Granger, can't you keep that rat's nest clear for five minutes?" His hissed taunt sent his classmates into renewed peals of laughter.

The blond git had been bothering her all morning, and her patience was wearing very thin, indeed. "Oh, just _sod off_, Malfoy!"

Her reaction just seemed to fuel his enjoyment as his smirk widened. "Tsk, tsk, such manners. Of course, can't expect little mudbloods like you to know any better, eh? What with your parents being practically animals and all. It's a wonder you've learned to dress yourself."

Hermione could feel the air crackling around her as her irritation grew to dangerous levels. "Shut that pointed mouth of yours, you pathetic, inbred, little shit!"

Unfortunately, Professor Vector chose just that moment to walk within earshot of their little exchange and was none too amused. "What's all this about? Such language, and from prefects, no less! Ten points from both Gryffindor and Slytherin and you'll _both_ be joining me for detention this evening."

Hermione managed to utter a contrite "Sorry, professor" before turning her attention back to her neglected work. Brilliant, more time with the ferret. She'd better get her temper in check before detention, or she'd be likely to flay the little bastard.

Draco settled smugly into his seat, his gray eyes lost in Hermione's voluminous curls. He spied a piece of parchment caught in their depths and suppressed a chuckle. He was definitely looking forward to detention.

***

Hermione stormed through the near-empty halls towards Professor Vector's office, trying to prepare herself for an evening of petty, and even more annoying, redundant taunts. Malfoy seemed to have made it his personal mission to get under her skin this year, and she couldn't for the life of her decipher why.

She _had_ received noticeably more attention from the male population since her return to school, which wasn't too hard to understand, she supposed. She'd spent the last few weeks of her summer lounging on the beaches of the Cote d'Azure, and her skin still retained a healthy glow from the French coast. Having taken the time to explore the girlier aspects of life with her mother, she'd discovered some pretty fantastic hair products and probed the art of makeup application. She still didn't think these things especially important, but enjoyed how manageable her hair was, and there was even something comforting about wearing a light application of makeup. It was almost liberating, in a weird, ironic sort of way, to have that fine layer as a sort of psychological buffer between herself and the world.

She hadn't really expected anyone to notice, and the changes were subtle enough that no one, well, no _boy_ anyway, seemed to know just _how_ she was different, but they could certainly tell that she was. She'd already had invitations from three boys for the first Hogsmeade weekend, which was still weeks away.

She shook her head a little, bringing herself back to the present and the issue at hand: Malfoy. He was being especially loathsome these days, and she was at a loss with how to deal with him. Her anger just seemed to encourage him, and she felt she ought to seek out a new tactic. Obviously, he didn't care what she thought about him, so insults were meaningless. Why should he care? She's just a filthy _mudblood,_ after all.

She stopped abruptly, an idea taking shape in her mind. She lifted her hands and studied them curiously, a slow smirk creeping across her features. She had a plan.

***

Draco anxiously paced the floor of the arithmancy classroom, clutching the written instructions from Professor Vector absentmindedly. Just knowing that swotty little bookworm was on her way to him was making his pulse race…Merlin; he needed to get a grip on himself!

He'd found himself thinking of the golden girl of Gryffindor all too often these days, but he was a bit hesitant to examine this new pattern too closely. All he knew was that she was driving him mad, and he wasn't satisfied unless he was pushing her buttons and making those hazel eyes of hers flash with anger. He'd really gotten to her today; he'd never heard her use such language before, and the heat in her eyes was nearly enough to set her hair aflame. The whole thing had been…simply _delicious._

His thoughts were interrupted when the door swung open to reveal a cheerfully smiling Hermione Granger. Draco frowned at the sight. Something had clearly improved her mood, but he was determined to get those eyes flashing again. "Running late, mudblood?"

She smirked knowingly at his taunt. "Hardly. Didn't expect you to be so early, though. How very _Hufflepuff_ of you." She cut off his indignant scoff before he could reply properly. "Where's Professor Vector?"

Draco strutted forward and thrust the note at her, pleased by the way she jumped slightly at the movement. She read the note silently, a little crease forming between her brows.

"We're to grade the third and fourth years' papers? That's all?"

Draco raised a brow and gestured to the mountain of parchment stacked on the professor's desk. He was pleased when Hermione's jaw dropped.

"Oh. Right, well. Let's get started; I'd rather not be here all night."

"Right, because I'm sure you have so many other pressing engagements. Tell me, is there a single bloke in this school who'd go anywhere _near_ you?"

She smiled at him for a moment before responding. "That reminds me. Malfoy, have you ever heard the saying 'kill them with kindness'?" Draco just snorted at the phrase like he'd never heard anything so stupid. "Thought not. You see, I've grown a bit tired of your little games, so we're going to play a new one. Anytime you say something nasty, any time you behave rudely, any time you give me any kind of shit whatsoever, I'm going to punish you the only way I know how."

"And that would be…?"

"With my filthy, mudblood hands, of course. I'm guessing there's nothing so vile or loathsome as being touched by someone like me, right?" Draco's only response was that of blank shock, so she continued on as though he'd agreed. "Keep your mouth shut, and I'll leave you alone. Bother me in the slightest, and I'll sully your pure, pale, person with my dirty, little hands. Got it?"

"You're bluffing." Draco's heart was pounding in his chest, and his palms had begun to sweat.

Hermione eyed him with amusement and determination. "Try me."

Draco narrowed his eyes at the challenge. "I'm sure you're desperate to get your disgusting hands on me, but I don't date _animals._"

She smiled sweetly at him, sauntered forward and placed one delicate hand on his forearm, sliding it up until it rested against the surprisingly warm skin of his neck. "Oh, Draco, such a _kidder."_ At this last word, she tugged lightly on his earlobe, sending white hot jolts of energy down his spine.

He stumbled backwards clumsily, only avoiding falling by gripping the desk behind him. She smiled quietly at him while he sputtered nervously. "What are you playing at, you daft bint?!"

She cocked her head to the side, shooting him a warning look hidden beneath another smile, before walking up to him again, effectively trapping him between her body and the desk he was still leaning against. She lightly pressed her hands to his taut abdomen, splaying her fingers and running her hands up his chest to grip the collar of his white oxford shirt.

"I told you, _Draco,_ I'm tired of playing your game, so now I'm playing mine. If you don't want to play, all you have to do is _shut the hell up and leave me alone." _She finished her statement with a coy smirk before straightening up and letting go of his shirt. "Well, what's it going to be?"

Draco's hands were shaking, his body tense, and his trousers suspiciously and uncomfortably tight. Hermione was still looking up at him with those warm eyes of hers, and all he could do was nod.

"I'm sorry, what was that? You'll need to speak up, Malfoy."

Somewhere deep inside, Draco winced at her return to the use of his surname. "I suppose we should get to work grading those papers, then."

She smiled widely at him, making his knees inexplicably weak. "Good boy."

Suppressing a growl at her cheek, Draco stormed to the desk, grabbed a parchment from the pile and attempted to focus his energy on the problems before him, his biggest problem taking a seat opposite him, close enough for him to smell the soft, citrus scent wafting off of her.

***

An hour later, Draco was finding it impossible to focus on the papers before him. He surreptitiously studied Hermione as she methodically graded one paper after another, feeling secretly annoyed with her hair for blocking full view of her face. Almost in response to his thoughts, Hermione paused, retrieved a hair tie from her bag, and proceeded to gather the unruly mass into a messy bun. The process was taking a considerable amount of time; time spent with Hermione's back arched, her pert breasts straining forward against her shirt, her pale neck exposed.

Draco's fascination quickly turned to irritation with himself for being so enraptured. So, as usual, he impulsively started to take it out on her, as he always did. "Looks like you're fighting a losing battle there, mudblood."

Hermione's hands froze in her hair and she turned to face him with one eyebrow raised. "Oh?"

Draco suddenly remembered her 'game' and tried to backtrack, but she was already out of her chair and moving towards him like a lioness stalking her prey, her wild mane lying forgotten on her shoulders. He scooted back in his chair, unknowingly providing better access to his lap, which she unceremoniously sat herself on, twisting so she could speak directly to him.

Draco's mind seemed to have gone on holiday, registering only one vague fact.

Hermione Granger. Sitting. On. His. Lap.

"Now, _Drakie…" _Draco winced at her use of Pansy's annoying nickname for him. "You seem a bit preoccupied with my hair. Care to tell me why?"

Draco swallowed once. Hard. "Difficult not to be, bloody mess takes up half the room, doesn't it?"

She shifted on his thighs, moving herself closer to his body, as one hand began playing absentmindedly with a button on his shirt while the other arm wrapped around his back. She leaned forward to whisper to him, sending hot gusts of air over the shell of his ear. "That's not a very nice thing to say, Draco. You might give me the wrong impression."

Draco shuddered beneath her, his hand moving of its own accord to the small of her back. "Oh yeah? What impression is that?"

She pulled back to study his face carefully. "I'm starting to think you _want_ me to touch you."

Draco's attempt at a derisive scoff came out more like a pained whimper, much to his chagrin, causing that damned infuriating grin to spread across her face again, getting his ire up immediately. "In your _dreams,_ Granger."

"On, no?" The look she was giving him was all too knowing for his comfort, and he struggled to keep the desire from his expression while she studied him. He carefully arranged his features in the most contemptuous expression he could muster.

"No. I'm sure some people might be tempted by the likes of _you;_ the same people who fancy a shag with barnyard animals, no doubt. No accounting for taste, yeah?"

Draco watched Hermione's eyes flash and her jaw harden with unmistakable anger. He swallowed once against the desire that look stirred in his belly, willing himself not to shift and give away the unfortunate condition he'd developed in his trousers.

Hermione leaned in slowly, the hand around his shoulder sliding up to grip his hair, the second hand on his buttons slipping beneath the material of his shirt to rest against his chest. He willed his heart to stop pounding, knowing she'd feel it trying to beat its way out of his chest and into her waiting hand, but he forgot all about that when she stopped her advance, her mouth barely ghosting over his, lips almost touching, but not quite.

He could feel her breath against his mouth, and his eyelids fluttered shut of their own volition. The hand he hadn't placed against her back was now gripping her bare thigh just beneath the hem of her skirt. He stroked the soft flesh there with his thumb, wishing he could explore the skin there with his mouth, his tongue.

He'd completely forgotten both the game and his baiting comments until she whispered against his mouth, teasing him with every movement of her lips. "Barnyard animals, huh?"

Draco just swallowed and, to his immense embarrassment, whimpered again, leaning slightly into her, desperate to meet her mouth with his. She pulled back just as gradually, refusing him contact until he used the hand on her back to pull her against him, finally taking her mouth with a kiss laced with desperation and unbearable need.

Hermione gasped against him, unwittingly giving him access to her warm mouth, which he was quick to take advantage of. Part of her mind was marveling over the unexpected turn of events while another part simply purred under his touch. She hadn't realized the purr was audible until Draco's responding growl filled her mouth. She pulled back at the sound, but Draco simply moved his attentions down her jaw and to her neck, while the hand on her thigh crept dangerously higher, slipping beneath the pleats of her school skirt and inching towards the juncture of her thighs.

Slowly regaining her senses, Hermione tensed and assessed the situation. Draco Malfoy was, for all intents and purposes, snogging the life out of her. What the _hell_? She was shocked out of her contemplation when she felt warm fingers stroking her through the now damp material of her knickers.

"Oh! Malfoy…" He didn't respond to her attempt to divert his attention except to attack her mouth again with another fevered kiss. "Malfoy, what are you…" His fingers tucked beneath the edge of her knickers, stroking her once before sliding a single, long digit inside her. "_Draco!_"

His head snapped back, and Hermione watched comprehension dawn on his flushed face. He looked from her swollen lips to his hand where it had disappeared beneath her bunched up skirt, admittedly staring at that particular sight a beat longer than was entirely proper—not that there was anything at all proper about their current position. When his eyes snapped back to meet hers, he looked more than a little confused, but there was something else, a vulnerability behind his eyes that she'd never seen before.

He was watching her closely, gauging her reaction as he slowly pumped his finger in and out again, stroking her swollen clit with his thumb. Hermione gasped, her hips jerking involuntarily, and looked at him questioningly. He smirked at her response, but it was a new smirk, a softer expression lacking any of his characteristic animosity.

Hermione's brain felt fuzzy and disoriented, and she was incapable of focusing on anything other than the feeling of Draco's hand between her thighs. This was only slightly altered when he leaned in to kiss her again. This time, she didn't pull away. The kiss was slow and fevered, mimicking the near-teasing movements of his hand.

After a moment, Draco used the hand on her back to guide her up and around until she was facing him. Hermione adjusted her legs unconsciously, straddling him outright. Draco moaned into her mouth, increasing his movements as she brushed up against his straining erection.

Sensing his dilemma, Hermione let the hand on his chest trail down to his waist, hesitating at the button of his trousers until another whimper from Draco spurred her on. She quickly undid the fastenings there, not allowing herself the time to really comprehend what she was doing until she felt an insistent hardness pulsing beneath the silk of his boxers. She paused then, the reality of her actions finally sinking in. She really had no idea what she was doing, and more importantly, this was bloody _Malfoy_ she was straddling!

Draco sensed her hesitation, but was too far gone to do anything more than nuzzle his face against her cheek, take a deep breath of the soft scent of her hair, and whisper against her ear, "Please…"

It was this plea, more than anything, that finally broke Hermione's resolve, and she turned her head to capture his lips again while gripping and stroking him lightly through his boxers. Draco let out a strangled moan when she slipped her small hand beneath the band of his underwear, gripping him harder and moving more confidently.

Their breath and movements became frantic, their mouths just barely meeting to puff hot air against one another while a similar tension built in both their stomachs. Draco gave Hermione's clit one last insistent tweak, catapulting her over the edge with a soft cry and arch of her back. With her release, Hermione squeezed him tighter, sending him over as well as he gasped out her name raggedly.

Draco kissed her lazily as they came down together, his hand moving from beneath her skirt to lightly caress her soft breast through her shirt.

Hermione slumped against him, feeling completely drained in the most pleasant way imaginable. When she'd caught her breath again, she spoke against the skin of his neck. "What the hell was _that_?"

Draco chuckled and squeezed her waist affectionately. "_You_ started it."

She laughed softly, breathlessly against him. "Hm. So I did." She pulled back and met his eyes warily, watching for cues as to how she was supposed to act around him, now.

He looked just as unsure and nervous as she felt, so she took a deep breath and prepared to take charge of the situation. "You know, we really ought to finish those papers." She watched as his expression fell infinitesimally and made an impulsive decision that she just knew would determine the nature of their future interactions. She smiled brightly at him, leaned in and kissed him on the cheek before climbing down off his lap and bouncing back to her own chair.

Draco watched her go with a bemused smile, taking perhaps a bit longer than necessary to refocus his attention on the papers before him.

***

Hermione was startled out of her focus on Professor Vector's lecture by light, almost tickling sensations against her head and the sound of parchment falling to the floor. She turned in her seat, dislodging the remaining pieces, and met curious silver eyes gazing back at her.

Draco quirked an eyebrow at her before smiling, not smirking, not sneering, but _smiling_, at the bewildered expression on her face. She quirked an eyebrow back at him before turning back to her work, grinning so broadly her cheeks hurt.

**A/N: Just a little plotless Dramione for your reading pleasure (assuming it was pleasurable…one can dream, no?). Timing is not particularly important, but I suppose we could place this at the beginning of fifth year. **

**Thanks for reading; reviews are, as always, cherished! **


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